| I AM...2 |
| Based on an exercise done as homework by British schoolchildren, this simple idea produced some wonderfully evocative writing from all ages... |
| I am Andr� I hear their desperate callings in the dark, and I can see that there�s no hope in their tone I feel so much relief and powerful. It�s done. I touch my body in reward. It was done. I am Andr� I pretended that it didn�t matter. I left quickly I worried it did matter. After all, I loved them. I wanted to put it aside. To forget. I cried. It really did matter. Iam not Andr�. I am someone else. I understood why I was weakening. I hoped it didn�t interfere. It did. I have dreamt about them since and I hear their screaming in the night I try to think to myself I did what had to be done. I say it aloud to myself. Did what had to be done. I never recovered though. But I am once again Andr�. I am Andr� (by Andr�. aged about 17or so) |
| I am Francisco I hear the voices in my mind, not the people in the street I see the bitterness of the rotten world I feel the mind-twisting lies that rule this place I would sometimes like to be blind, or dumb. I touch the soft surfaces that surround me. I love it. It makes me feel alive. I am myself. Who am I? I am I! This object that is is myself. And yet, this is not what the others see. I pretend I am here, though I am not. I worry about what will happen. I want things to change, they seem not to want to change. I never understood that. I cry to those who should but will not try. Helpless, I need something else. I am mine. (Francisco, aged about 17 or so) |
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